


Forks Graveyard

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Plot, no smut yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Derek visits Forks and has a stowaway.





	

Two months. It had taken two months of reluctant researching with Stiles before Derek could find any trace of something even remotely supernatural - or interesting - about Forks, Washington. At first (and second) glance, it was an extremely average town with extremely boring residents. Population 3,000, only one high school in the area, and none of the classic signs of an abnormal cover up. No missing persons, mysterious suicides or even natural disasters. The only thing it was known for was consistently wet weather.

Then, with a little digging, Stiles had managed to find out more about some indigenous tribes in the Forks area. Specifically, Quileute legends. Online sources had mentioned monsters that vaguely sounded like vampires - the ‘pale faces’. The story also described the ancestors of the Quileute in a way that sounded suspiciously like werewolves. They were considered men descended from wolves. All except for the full moon aspect, it was a pretty obvious parallel.

A week after learning that, Derek was woken up, first thing in the morning, by a phone call. He answered begrudgingly after glancing at the call display.

“What is it, Stiles?” Derek growled into the speaker.

“You wanted to know if anything weird happened in Forks.” Stiles sounded smug.

“Check your email.”

Derek reached for his tablet and opened the message from Stiles. “Okay, so what happened?” He asked while waiting to be redirected to the article online.

 “A guy dropped dead out of nowhere yesterday. No previous health problems, just passed away in his sleep.”

 "That hardly seems like a cover up for murder. The body would have to be intact for the funeral.”

“That’s not all.” Stiles added. Derek was finally scanning through the obituary himself, all very nice things being said about the guy, and leaving behind loving family.

“How often does a 19 year old kid die from a heart attack?” Stiles asked. Derek finally got to the part of the article with a picture of the deceased. A graduation photo of a white teen with buzzed dark hair and a signature smile. Emmett Cullen.

* * *

Stiles begged, pleaded and attempted to bribe Derek to let him come along. The werewolf was going on a weekend trip to Washington in order to investigate - and he was, under no circumstances, bringing a human with him.

“Real live vampires! You can’t just leave me hanging like this! I’m the one who helped you find them in the first place.” Stiles had headed over to Derek’s loft as soon as he printed out everything he could find on Cullen family, and was now pacing back and forth in Derek’s living room.

“First of all, there doesn’t seem to be anything live about them. Second of all, if you want any thanks for the help - consider this your payment. Keeping you out of the way.” Derek continued to shove clothes into his bag.

“The guy’s supposed to be dead - how dangerous could he be?”

“Stiles, I told you: whatever these things are, they’re stronger than anything I’ve ever seen. If they can hurt me, turning you into a snack wouldn’t be a second thought.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t a threat?”

“This one wasn’t. Doesn’t mean there isn’t more like him.”

“Derek-”

“End of discussion, Stiles.” Derek zipped up his bag and turned back to the teen. “Give me the file, and go home. Before your dad starts to wonder where you are.” There was a challenge in those words. Stiles rolled his eyes and handed over the documents. Derek grabbed it and tossed them onto his coffee table. He would look it over once Stiles was gone. The human wasn’t leaving yet, though.

“If you find anything else out, you have my number.” Derek was clearly dismissing him.

“You’re welcome, jackass.” Stiles started to pick up his things and headed to the door. Derek looked up after him.

“Thanks.” He finally said lowly, but he wasn’t sure if Stiles heard him. The next thing he knew his front doors had been slammed shut.

* * *

It was only after five hours of driving to Forks when Derek heard the rustling in his Camaro’s trunk. It couldn’t have been his luggage rolling around. He packed a single bag for clothes and toiletries that he threw in his backseat. Derek started turning down the radio - which he only had on for traffic updates - when he heard the knocking. He quickly pulled off the side of the road and heard the voice from inside his car.

“Derek! Careful, I have to use the bathroom back here!”

“Stiles!” He yelled, jumping out of his door once he was parked. He threw up the lid to the trunk to see a sleepy looking Stiles inside, using his backpack as a pillow.

“What are you doing?!”

“I told you I was coming with you.” He wobbled out of the car. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta take a leak.”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t tie you up and drive you back to Beacon Hills.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” Stiles paused in undoing his fly. “We’re already halfway there.”

Derek growled and went back to the driver’s side of his vehicle. But he kept the trunk open and the doors unlocked. He waited.

Stiles eventually picked up his things and slid into the passenger side before Derek sped back onto the highway. Stiles was the first to speak.

“Wondering how I got back there?”

“Not particularly.” Derek snapped. It was clear there was no room for more conversation. However, Derek eventually spoke up.

“What were you doing in there this whole time?”

“Oh, you know...napping.” He responded, and Derek shot him a confused look. “It’s surprisingly comfortable.”

“And does the Sheriff know where you are right now?”

“I told him Lydia needed some company when she went out to her family’s summer home. That she hasn’t been...coping well.”

Derek thought about snapping at Stiles, asking him if he felt right about using that excuse. He bit his cheek and repressed his anger - but only a fraction.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to drive in silence; you can go back to sleep if you want. You can go over the file. I don’t care. As long as you’re quiet. When we get to Forks, we’re checking into the motel I booked, and you’re going to stay there. All. Weekend. Until I say it’s time to go.”

“What! That’s not -” Stiles cut off his own protest of injustice when he saw Derek’s face. If looks could kill...well Stiles would have been dead long before now.

He did as the werewolf instructed, staying quiet and resting most of the way. But then night fell, and the teen could eventually see Derek starting nodding of.

“Derek, pull over.” Stiles finally spoke up, after he had drifted out of their lane for a second time. “Before you get us both killed.”

Derek did so without protest, which surprised him. They found the closest gas station, and Stiles suggested Derek get some food for them while he filled up the tank. Derek agreed silently and passed him the keys.

Stiles took over driving the Camaro and tried not to let it get to his head. He remained silent by stuffing his face with the egg salad sandwiches and candy bars Derek had tossed his way before passing out. By sunrise, they were through Oregon and entering Washington state.

* * *

The second Stiles entered the Fork’s motel room, he seated himself on the floral bedspread and started emptying out the contents of bag to get to his computer. He booted up the laptop while Derek entered and threw his luggage onto the couch.

“Does this place have wi-fi?” Stiles asked. Derek pointed at the television set; a relic with antenna and knobs.

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Alright, paper it is then.” Stiles sighed. They both looked over the sheets Stiles had printed off - all together it wasn’t much. The folder only contained Emmett’s obituary, an article about Dr. Carlisle Cullen’s work as a physician in the local hospital, and some school records for the Doctor’s kids.

“How did you get these?” Derek sounded close to impressed.

“Forks high school’s database? Not exactly top notch security.” Stiles assured him. “Okay, so here’s what we know: Emmett Cullen just had his funeral today. Apparently died of natural - though premature - causes. His adopted father is an overly qualified physician living in the America’s rainiest town.”

“Dr. Cullen and his wife adopted five teenagers. And they all had perfect grades - graduated high school in June.”

“Man, if I was a vampire, I can’t imagine wanting to be a part of the public school system for all of eternity.”

“Stiles, focus.” Derek prompted. Stiles shook his head and sorted through the files again.

“You know, for a family with such good grades, they sure do have a lot of absences.” Stiles looked up at Derek and asked him to confirm the dates on the files he had.

“About a dozen through the year. Mostly near the summer.”

“Which Cullen is that for?” Stiles asked and Derek’s eyes widened. “It’s uh, for the Hales. Rosalie and Jasper.”

“No relation, I’m guessing?” Stiles quirked and eyebrow but all he got was a growl in response.

“Obviously.”

“Okay, well those are the same days for Emmett, Alice and...Edward.” Stiles looked confused. “Weird names.”

“Old names.” Derek corrected. “It says their absences are excused though. Apparently their parents pull them out to go camping.”

“Camping? With weather like this all year round?” An idea struck Stiles. He turned on his phone and realized a moment too late there wasn’t internet access. “Ugh.” He threw it back on the bed.

“What?”

“Vampires don’t do well in sunlight, right?” Stiles asked.

“According to myth, sure.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I haven’t seen anything close to sunlight through the non-stop rain.”

Derek still seemed weary.

“If I had access to the internet, I would check when there was about a particular lack of cloud cover, last year, in this area. On those days specifically.” Stiles laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “It makes sense. If you can’t be exposed to direct sunlight, why not move to a place where it’s always rain and no shine?”

“Makes sense.” Derek nodded. “Well that just leaves one more thing to check, then.”

“What’s that?” Stiles inquired.

“Where’s he supposed to be buried?”

* * *

Stiles was surprised Derek was bringing him along at all. Granted, it was just to check out a supposedly dead body - so fighting most likely wouldn’t be involved.

To prepare, they first had to buy a sack full of supplies at the town's only camping store - Newton’s Olympic Outfitters. And now, after finding the cemetery mentioned in the article and parking a fair distance away, they had to navigate their way through the surrounding forest.

As per usual, Derek was being a sourwolf. Stiles understood that hiking through the shitty, foggy Forks forest to get to the town’s only graveyard was no wolf’s dream vacation. Let alone with a lowly human in tow. Stiles was lucky, however, that Derek’s curiosity and need for answers was outweighing his pervasive urge to strangle said human.

“So...you’re going to be doing the digging?” Stiles asked, attempting to seem casual, as he hopped over yet another fallen tree trunk.

“Yeah.” Derek said from ahead. Stiles watched as the werewolf’s grip tightened around the duffel bag of supplies slung over his shoulder.

“And I’m going to be keeping watch?”

“No, we’re both digging.” Derek snapped. He was speeding up now that the fence around the cemetery was in sight, and Stiles was struggling to keep up.

“What, no one to keep an eye out?” Stiles scrambled over some roots and had just managed to catch himself on the branch of another tree before falling. Derek huffed in annoyance.

“Do you want to dig by yourself? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

“What? No, I’m just saying what if someone - “

“Stiles, we’re in the middle of nowhere!” Derek gestured around at the graveyard they were approaching, where the very still field of tombstones could be seen through the bars. “Why would anyone be out here, at this time of night?”

Stiles eyed the dark and very creepy shack of a church on the other side of the gates. How wasn’t this a real life horror movie right now?

“Maybe some late night praying?” He nodded towards the chapel. Derek dismissed him, shaking his head.

“Look, if you didn’t think anyone was going to be here, why are we hopping a fence instead of going through the front entrance?” The brainiac had him there.

Stiles was about to gloat in his victory when, suddenly, his foot dipped a little too far into the ground. Jesus, was that a rabbit hole? Was that a thing outside of cartoons? Either way, Stiles was losing his balance and going down quickly.

Thankfully, Derek’s arms shot out and caught him by the midsection. His backpack, however, kept falling to the ground, and something rolled out to hit his foot. The human tried not to let his embarrassment show - which was difficult when being face to face with a giant, muscular, pissed-off man. A man who also, most likely, could hear the stutter in his pulse.

Stiles attempted to straighten himself up with some dignity as Derek stepped back. Stiles could feel the heat of his gaze still on him as he bent to retrieve his belongings.

“Ah-ha!” He exclaimed. “Found my my flashlight.” He waved it for emphasis.

“Good.” Derek pushed past him. “Try and watch where you’re going next time.”

* * *

Regardless of the fact that it wasn’t quite raining, the mist was so heavy both Stiles and Derek were damp. They’d been scanning the rows of graves for about twenty minutes before they finally found one with fresh dirt. Under one of the few trees in the cemetery, a tombstone with the name ‘Emmett McCarty Cullen’ had a pile of fresh bouquets on top of it.

And now, it was time to dig. Derek threw down his bag behind the trunk of tree and started to unpack. After being tossed a shovel of his own and lowering his bookbag, Stiles cleared his throat.

“Wh-what uh...exactly do you think we’ll find down there?” He had pressed the tip of the spade into the ground, but was tentative to start the actual...unearthing.

“Don’t know.” Derek shrugged, already digging. “Not him.” Within a few inhales, he had practically been choked with the strong scent of the dead - well, undead. But Derek could tell the smell wasn’t coming from this hole.

“Comforting.” Stiles started to follow Derek’s lead. “Well if you’re not looking for your buddy, what are we even here for?” Derek knew Stiles was as curious as him about these things, so it struck him as off that he chose to complain now. Was fear getting to him? Derek could’ve sworn he’d almost heard jealousy in his tone.

“Shut up and dig.” Was Derek’s flat response.

“Alright, alright! But if we find anything that’s still alive inside there, I hope you’re prepared to take care of it.”  
“Stiles.”

“As in, kill it.”

“Stiles.”

“Possibly for a second time.”

There was a hand around Stiles’ mouth and he was being shoved against a tree before he could breathe another word. He flailed in panic before he realized it was Derek whose warm body was pressing hard against him.

“Shh!” Derek urged, Stiles collar twisted in his fists. Now Stiles could hear it; the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the dirt path behind them. His heart-rate skyrocketed.

“You didn’t hear them coming?” Stiles whispered frantically. Derek ignored his words and lowered Stiles back to the ground. He was hurrying to pack their shovels in the bag and out of sight. “It’s almost like we could have used a look-out.” Stiles hinted.

“Stiles, shut the hell up before I-” Derek gritted his teeth and was trying to use a menacing tone. Stiles was too panicked and frustrated to think straight, so he called his bluff.

“Before you what?” The footsteps came closer, and the werewolf looked more and more frantic.  
“What are you gonna do, Derek? Make me?” The human taunted. Derek eyes flashed, and he started to quickly take off his leather jacket.

“Great idea.” Jacket now tossed on top of the gravesite, and it left Stiles with a full view of Derek’s barrell chest in nothing but a tight grey v-neck. Was he serious? Was Derek Hale about to finally pay Stiles back for all the smartass remarks he’d made? The teen was shaking all over with a surge of adrenaline.

Derek pressed forward and every muscle in Stiles body flinched away from his hands, which he was using to shove the human back into tree bark.

“Derek-” Was all he could cough out, his heart beating in his throat. Then, he watched the man’s head duck down to his eye-level. His touch turned gentle when fingers found their way to Stiles’ hips. He gasped, and Derek pressed his lips against his open mouth in a surprisingly soft kiss.

The sound of approaching footfall finally stopped. Not that Stiles was able to hear anything over the roaring of blood in his ears. He remained completely still for a moment, processing that one of the werewolf’s hands was around his waist; the other moving to Stiles’ cheek. It wasn’t until Derek’s tongue flicked against his that he jolted to life.

Stiles shifted his head to the side and kissed back hungrily. Maybe that was code for sloppily, but he was enthusiastic nonetheless. His arms wound around Derek’s neck, pulling him closer in and deepening the kiss. He felt the start of a moan vibrate in his chest. When Stiles pulled back to breathe a little, Derek’s mouth wandered to his ear. He shivered. He felt like a live wire. The human’s insides were a cocktail of raging hormones, confusion, and full body terror. But this was nice. Stiles was now pretty sure he knew why Derek had initiated this, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Be quiet.” Derek stage-whispered, teasingly. “Don’t want to get caught.”

A very obvious cough sounded behind Derek, followed by the beam of a flashlight shining directly into Stiles now open eyes.

“Too late for that, boys.” Said a gruff male voice.

They both turned to see who had discovered them, and to assess just how screwed they were. On the one hand, it was a police officer. A 6 foot tall, dark-haired man in uniform with a mustache overshadowing his frown of disapproval. On the other hand, he was most likely just another human. So that was something.

“Uh, hello officer.” Derek’s tone was polite. He and Stiles separated themselves in mock shame. “We were just…” He trailed off, clearly not intending to finish that thought.

“Breaking into private property after hours to get some action?” The cop responded. He didn’t sound particularly angry, but Stiles didn’t have to try and fake the bright red blush that spread up his neck.

“We’re uh, really really sorry, Sir. It, um, it won’t happen again.” Stiles scratched the back of his head, looking at the ground in a way that probably read ‘guilty-as-hell horny teenager’. It was because of that charade he caught sight of where Derek’s coat had ended up. On top of the mound of dirt he had been digging. Clever bastard.

“It’s my fault, Officer. It was my idea...” Derek launched into some made up explanation - but Stiles wasn’t really listening. He was analyzing the cop’s movements and uniform, trying to make sure he was legitimate. From the looks of it, he was Chief of Police here in Forks. Stiles relaxed once he realized the man’s hand was nowhere near his gun, and that he only seemed interested in keeping his flashlight on a bashful looking Derek.

“Officer.” Stiles finally spoke up. “Are we under arrest?” He already knew the answer, but it amused him to see Derek shoot him a not-so-subtle death glare.

“Have either of you been drinking?” The cop sighed.

“No.” Stiles answered.

“Not at all.” Derek shook his head.

“Any drugs? Illegal substances?”

They both shook their head. The chief pointed the light down at the grass to scan their belongings and (thankfully) only saw Stiles’ backpack and Derek’s jacket.

“Well alright, then. You’re free to go.” He finally announced.

“Thank you, Officer.” Derek breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’ll escort you out.” The cop added. Derek and Stiles exchanged worried looks. All the teen could think to do was bend down to slowly gather up his flashlight and backpack. Their anxiety was short lived though. By some miracle the chief's cell phone started to go off. He looked down at the caller ID and shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I, uh, I gotta take this.” His phone continued to ring. The boys didn’t move. “Look, I’ll leave the gates open - you just be sure to close them behind you.”

“Yes, sir.” Derek nodded, clearly baffled.

“And a word of advice, son,” The officer looked back to Derek before heading down the trail. “Spend the extra fifty dollars and go to the motel down the street. I’m sure you’re boyfriend would appreciate it.”

He was walking away when Stiles heard him answer: “Chief Swan.”

They mutually held their breath until the yellow light eventually blinked out down the road. Stiles was the first to speak, standing up.

“That was, umm...quick thinking. That whole...embarrassed teens get caught making out-” Stiles pretended to cough. “It was a good cover.”

“Don’t mention it.” Derek grumbled, putting his coat back on. Awkward silence crackled like static between them. Stiles felt like he could still taste his heart.

“Okaaay.” He was sweating more than usual on a cool autumn night, and when he goes to bite his lip he realized with a twinge that they were now tender from the rough kissing.

“Do we...do we - uh - go back to digging now?” He asks. Derek grunted as response and went to retrieve their equipment. Stiles heard shuffling and then silence.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are the shovels?”

“What? How would I know?” Stiles was back to panicking once he saw Derek on his hands and knees, looking for the bag like it was hiding. “I didn’t touch them!” Stiles insisted.

A loud whistle sounded from somewhere in tree branches overhead. Both their heads snapped up, and they see a pale, broad-shouldered man grinning down at them.

“Looking for this?” The man dropped the duffel bag from his perch, and it landed with a loud crack. “You won’t be needing it.” He continued, jumping down after bag.

“Emmett.” Derek started growling again.

“Good to see you too, Derek.” His cocky smirk never faded. Stiles recognized the man from the newspaper now. He also seemed familiar in some way; as if a memory was scratching at the back of Stiles’ brain. He didn’t dwell too much on it though - there was a dead man standing in front of him.

“You’re supposed to be buried down there.” Stiles took note of Emmett’s sharp golden eyes as soon they were trained onto him. Every instinct in Stiles screamed for him to run. The way this guy moved - ‘predatory’ was the only word Stiles had to describe it. And the human was very very much prey.

“And yet, here I am.” He gestured to himself before locking eyes with Derek again. “But you already knew that.”

“I suspected.” Derek seemed a little more controlled now. Not any more trusting of this guy, only less visibly on edge around him.

“Then what’s in your grave?” Stiles prodded. He knew he was still technically in danger, but but he could rely on Derek for protection.

Emmett sauntered over to lean against his own gravestone. “A very expensive, very empty coffin - paid for by my father.”

“Oh.” Was all Stiles could think to say.

“Great show, by the way.” Emmett added. “I’m not sure Charlie really appreciated it, but I think you two make a hot couple.”

“The cop?” Stiles was not becoming any less confused - very flustered at being called hot, though.

“You called him.” Derek spat. Emmett responded with loud laughter.

“One anonymous tip to the chief and I got to see a lover’s quarrel turn into PG-13 make-up sex in under a minute!” He wiped at the non-existent tears he would have shed from chuckling. “C’mon, you have to admit that was good.”

“What are you doing here?” Derek demanded.

“Me? I live-” Emmett looked down at the flowers under his feet. “Well, “died” here.” He put air quotes around the word. “What are you doing here, Derek?”

“At your grave?”

“No! In Forks! You wanted to go for round two?” He winked at Stiles then. “Brought your friend to join?”

It was then very apparent that these two were more than casual acquaintances. They had...a sexual history. And just thinking about that, Stiles was getting the most scared boner in the world right now. Why was the combination of intimidation and beauty his weakness?

“You’re Stiles, right?” Emmett prompted. The teen shivered at the way his name sounded coming from the stranger.

“He’s human.” Derek snarled, sounding overly protective.

“Oh, I could tell from a mile away.” Emmett remarked, and Stiles opened his mouth to protest. “It’s a compliment, sweetheart. Let’s just say you smell like you’d be tasty.” Emmett bit his lip and looked Stiles up and down. Yeah, neither Stiles’ terror, nor his arousal, was going anywhere, any time soon.

“That’s not why we’re here.” Derek was trying to sound calm. “We thought a vampire being dying by heart attack sounded like a cover-up for something bigger.”

“And you came all this way to check up on me? I’m touched.” Emmett put a hand to his heart and approached them. “But as you can see, I’m fine. No danger here. So we can head our separate ways now.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Unless you wanted to stay another night?”

“You still haven’t explained why you faked your own death.” Derek demanded.

“Your dirty talk needs work.” Emmett snickered, but Derek didn’t budge. The vampire rolled his eyes. “Fine, you got me. But let’s talk about it somewhere more private.”

* * *

The werewolf, vampire and human had finally made it back to the motel room. Only to talk - Derek had made that infinitely clear. He insisted there was to be no sex, or even any more talk of sex. Stiles was still figuring out how he felt about that.

“So what, exactly, is so much trouble that a vampire needs to make everyone think he’s dead?” Derek leaned against the room’s window sill while Emmett stood in the middle of the room, arms folded. Stiles sat between them on the bed - but was far too on edge to get comfortable.

“Don’t make it sound so dramatic. What immortal doesn’t fake their own death every couple decades? Can’t stay at the same school forever.” Emmett shrugged.

“Dude, I’ve gotta ask - why high school?” Stiles piped up. “Wouldn’t University at least be a little more interesting? Or travelling abroad? Literally anything else?”

“Stiles. Focus.” Derek looked back to Emmett. “I’m guessing it was more than restlessness that prompted this.”

“I’ll be straight with you Derek,” The side of his mouth quirked in a smile at that, but he continued. “I’ve been planning another visit to California. A vacation you might say.”

“Wait, wouldn’t the weather be a bit too bright for uh…” Stiles searched for the words. “People like you?”

“Ha! No.” Emmett laughed. He did that a lot. “Sorry darling, takes a more than some sunshine to turn me to dust.”

“Is there something else coming to Beacon Hills?” Derek asked.

“Not exactly. Not yet.” Emmett sighed. “Let me put it this way, me and my family - we’re not well liked by other vampires. We don’t kill humans; we drink animal blood. Some think that makes us weak - that we’re wasting our potential.”

“No human blood? So you’re like, vegetarian?” Stiles interrupted. Then he saw Derek’s expression and apologised.

“To cut the explanation short: we have reason to believe another clan followed my trail to California and has...taken a certain interest in the werewolves there. It’s not necessarily a threat, but they’re too close for comfort.”

“What do we do?” Stiles inquired.

“No offense, but there’s not much you can do other than stay on alert. And keep me on speed dial.”

“You want us to wait around and do nothing?” The werewolf seemed irked.

“Derek, you’ve seen what one vampire can do. We both know who would win that fight, buddy.” Emmett shrugged with a smile. “So, you gonna let me give you my number, or not?”

Derek didn’t give in immediately. There was a beat of hesitance before he eventually passed his phone over and Emmett made himself a contact.

There wasn’t much left to say, but the vampire still stuck around. “I don’t know if this will make you feel any better or worse, but I won’t be coming alone.” After a moment, he added: “Consider her backup.”

The door to the hotel room opened very suddenly. A slim and pale blonde girl slipped in behind Emmett and shut the door behind her.

“Who do you think you’re calling backup?” Her tone was sharp. Stiles jolted back on the bed in surprise and sputtered: “Jesus Christ!” The statue-esque blonde ignored this. “I’ve saved your ass more times than you could count, so be careful who you’re calling your sidekick.”

Emmett’s smile was big and warm. “I would never, Rose.” He kissed her cheek and wrapped an arm around her waist. She still had her arms crossed in front of her chest, but her expression softened. Emmett looked at the others in the room.

“Guys, meet Rosalie.”

“You just have vampires crawling out of the woodwork here, don’t you?” Stiles remarked. The woman’s eyes scanned over him before meeting Derek’s sceptical gaze. He hadn’t moved since she entered.

“And you’re the werewolf. Derek.” The werewolf in question stiffened, and she grinned. “Don’t worry. I know all about you two.” She put a hand to Emmett’s chest. “I let Emmett have his fun. That reminds me, though.” Rosalie finally turned to properly address Stiles. “What are the girls like in Beacon Hills?”

Stiles swallowed, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of so many eyes. This vampire strangely reminded him of Lydia - she had such a commanding presence. Calculating, sure of herself, and looks that could kill. Probably literally. He wondered if they would get along, or rip each other’s throats out in a fight for dominance.

“Uh, I think you would like them.” Stiles answered quickly. He squirmed again, knowing every heartbeat was audible to everyone else in the room. The human finally shot a pleading look to Derek.

“Okay - so what’s the plan?” Derek asked.

“We take care of it.” The couple was making their exit. “And I’ll see you soon.” Emmett winked and then the vampires were gone.

* * *

Stiles and Derek were now in the awkward position of figuring out where to sleep. Derek, at first, had offered to take the couch - but they both knew it was too small for him.

“I mean, it’s a double bed. I think we can share without it being a big deal.” Stiles suggested.

“Fine.” Derek gritted his teeth. “I’m taking a shower first.” He made his way to the bathroom.

“Wait, what are we doing tomorrow?”

“We? You’re not leaving this motel. I’m going to see just how many vampires this town has.” The werewolf slammed the door to the bathroom.

Stiles dressed down to a t-shirt and boxers before collapsing onto the mattress with a sigh of defeat. He had nothing but anxious thoughts and fears to dwell on now. Not only was there confirmation that vampires were real, there was also chance that they were coming to his hometown. And apparently werewolves didn’t even stand a chance against the bloodsuckers. Great.

On top of all that, Stiles was about to be sharing a bed with moody asshole that had kissed just a few hours prior. Logically speaking, he knew it had been strictly business. But if the teen was being honest with himself, he was replaying every moment in the last few days that might lead him to believe otherwise.

He had noticed Derek being a lot less...aggressive with him lately. Permitting him come along in the first place, letting him drive the Camaro, and even inviting him to the graveyard was more than he would have expected not long ago. That night alone Derek had caught him from stumbling, then kissed him (with tongue), and had gotten majorly pissed-off when the vampire had started hitting on him. Still, Stiles didn’t want to get his hopes up.

As for how Stiles felt about Derek...you’d have to be blind to not notice how attractive the guy was. Also, scary as hell. But apparently the boy had a type.

The door to the bathroom opened again and Stiles felt nerves rattle around in his stomach, so he turned on his side. Facing the wall, he listen to clothing rustle as Derek got dressed. Then the bed dipped, and the werewolf got under the covers next to him.

Stiles thought about pretending to be asleep before he remembered Derek could probably hear his heart racing. He was practically shaking with nerves.

“Derek, would you be willing to explain something real quick?”

“Not particularly.” Was Derek’s quick response. Stiles breathed in and tried again.

“Why did you kiss me today?”

“You said it yourself; it was a good cover.” The werewolf turned over in the bed. “Go to sleep, Stiles.”

The human moved onto his back and looked up at the ceiling instead. “You and that guy, Emmett...you hooked up?”

“I’m not talking about this.”

“Why not?” A long pause followed. Stiles was beginning to think the man had drifted off.

“Yeah, we did.” He finally replied. Stiles’ pulse kept escalating.

“Did you know he was watching us? When you…you know” The human turned to look over at Derek when he asked this.

“What?” Derek’s face was screwed up in confusion. He moved to sit up, “How was I supposed to know he was there? Why would I-”

“I’ve been trying to figure out wh-why you did what you did. When there was plenty of alternatives.” Stiles moved his face so that Derek couldn’t read his expression. “Were you trying to make him jealous or something?”

Derek said nothing. Stiles felt a pang in his chest, so he just kept babbling. “It makes sense if you did. It was a good way to get him to come to us...instead of us trying to find or-or track him, or whatever. It doesn’t even matter, forget I asked about-” Stiles held his breath and stopped talking.

He watched Derek shift in the bed until his face was hovering over Stiles’. He looked up, wide-eyed, at the werewolf. Derek was holding himself up over Stiles’ torso, and using one hand to guide the boy’s face towards his own. His expression was unreadable until he finally shut his eyes and moved closer to kiss Stiles.

The human’s heart pumped so hard it hurt. He put a trembling hand to Derek’s hair and pushed his lips against the man’s open mouth. Stiles almost couldn’t believe this was really happening. Again. He pulled Derek in a little closer and slid his tongue against his bottom lip. Derek made a noise in the back of his throat that had hom tingling all over. But instead of doing anything further, the werewolf pulled back. He gazed down at the teen, looking a bit stunned. Stiles mind was practically blank. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

Without any word of warning, Derek returned to his side of the bed. “Goodnight, Stiles.” He said before rolling over.

Stiles went back to gazing at the ceiling. He put a hand into his hair and stuttered: “Uh-I...y-yeah. Night?” And with that, he got settled and ready to fall asleep. He was content now that he had gotten an answer to his questions.


End file.
